Through the Looking Glass
by Ormandria
Summary: Dumbledore was also a student at Hogwarts once. He had a friend too. Now that the world thinks him dead, it's time to call on that friend to assist in stopping the one person that can save the Wizarding world from making a grave mistake.


_**Disclaimer:** I do not own Harry Potter or any of the characters that are found within the confines of the books or movies. I do however own Winnie._

_A/N: This fanfic spans several different time periods in the life of Albus Dumbldore. Be prepared for flashbacks and back and forth timeline references._

_**WARNINGS: HBP SPOILERS!**_

_Also, as I stated before, this is NOT a romance, though there are slight implications of regrets that there was not a romance. There might be some HxG, RLxNT, RxHr and BxF, but if so, they will all be background. Anyway, now you know. You have been warned;-)_

_**Ormandria**_

* * *

**AD's First Year At Hogwarts**

Albus shuddered as he watched Professor Beaumerthal work on the injured animal before them. The injuries nearly made him sick to his stomach and finally he had to turn his head away.

"Professor?"

Albus looked up at Winnie, only to find that this time she was addressing the Care for Magical Creatures Instructor and not him. The two children had only known each other for a couple of months, when they both started their first year at Hogwarts and were sorted into Gryffindor, but in that time they had become the best of friends. And always, from the moment they had met, she had called him 'Professor.' Now though, she was addressing an actual professor.

"Do you think that she'll live?" the young girl continued, her eyes welling with tears. Albus reached over and put his hand on Winnie's shoulder to give her some comfort.

"I think we might just be able to save her," smiled Professor Beaumerthal, as she finished bandaging the wounded kneazle. "Where did you find her anyway?" the professor asked the pair.

"We found her near the lake," Albus lied. The truth was that they had wandered off into the Forbidden Forest and found the kneazle inside. Admitting that though, would do nothing but earn the two first years a good month's detention. A punishment that neither wished for. Professor Beaumerthal raised her eyes in suspicion, but then nodded seriously.

"If that's the case, then it's a good thing the two of you were there. Had you not been, she might have died very quickly. Now, why don't you two get back to wherever it is your suppose to be right now?"

Winnie and Albus both nodded and left.

"Thank you," Winnie said quietly.

"It's all right," Albus shrugged. "I know how much you hate to see anyone or anything suffer. It's a good trait actually."

"Do you think we'll always be friends, Professor?" She looked at him inquiringly. He almost laughed when he realized that she was in her 'serious' mode.

The eleven-year-old boy scrunched his face up into a serious expression as well. "Yes," he said with certainty. "I think we shall."

* * *

**End of HP's Sixth Year at Hogwart's**

People had begun leaving the grounds of Hogwarts shortly after the funeral. Classes for the rest of the year had been cancelled. It seemed only fitting, since things were in such disarray at the moment. The school was out one Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, again, and now, thanks to Minerva McGonagall's sudden, unexpected promotion, they were out of a Transfiguration teacher as well. At this point, no one was even sure whether the school would ever open its doors again.

It was not any of these facts though, that were now weighing on the mind of the new Headmistress of Hogwarts. On the contrary, it was what she had seen at the funeral. As she passed the few people that remained milling around the tombstone, she noted that she was not the only one who understood what had taken place.

Several members of the order were now standing around, talking to each other, sharing memories and tears in the face of the death of one of the wizarding world's most beloved people. Yet when she passed, and caught their eyes, there was a slight look of confusion mixed with awe and relief, and occasionally a small look of wonder.

She passed Harry, who was currently discussing plans for the summer and upcoming year with Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger. She had already tried talking to Harry earlier about what Dumbledore had discussed with him, but the boy had been tight-lipped, so there was no use in her trying to find out how much, if any, information he had on the current situation other then by trying to over-hear it. She slowed down as she passed, trying to gauge if they knew what she now knew, and once realizing that they did not, continued on her way to the castle.

Rufus Scrimgeour, the new minister of magic, and a man that Minerva thought even worse than Fudge in some ways, having already talked to Harry and looking flat out miserable afterwards, took a moment to sideline her.

"Minerva. Just the person I was wanting to talk to," he beamed. Minerva stopped dead in her tracks and rounded on him.

"Minister," she nodded respectfully and tried to keep her tone level. "Is there something I can assist you with?"

"Please Minerva, call me Rufus," he smiled, trying to win her over.

"Rufus then," she sighed in annoyance. "Is there something I can assist you with? And please make it quick. I am rather busy at the moment."

"Actually Minerva, I was wondering if you could spare me a few moments. You see, with all that has happened recently, the ministry is very concerned about Hogwart's current … position as it were."

Minerva felt the blood rush to her face. "Hogwart's position?" she asked innocently.

"Yes," the minister replied. "We need to know what the future holds for our illustrious school. Why, if the school were to close down, which under the circumstances would be quite understandable…." Minerva cut him off with a wave of her hand.

"Mr. Minister," she responded, taking on her famous no-nonsense attitude to rebuke any further attempts at socializing from Scrimgeour. "Let me be the first to assure you that the position of Hogwarts, as you put it, is the same now as it ever was. We will continue to teach young wizards and witches in all manner of things."

"But you are out two teachers, are you not? What with Snape's betrayal and Dumbledore's death. Dumbledore himself had difficulties filling the position of Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. Now you must find not only someone to fill that position, but someone to fill your own former position as well."

"The situation is being taken care of as we speak," McGonagall reiterated. "In fact, it was that very business that I was in the process of attending to when you chose to stop me. I can guarantee you that come fall, the doors to Hogwarts will be opened once more."

"And the students who haven't had a chance to finish out their lessons?"

"All those with Acceptable or above will continue on to their next year. As for the students who were unable to complete their OWLs or NEWTs, they will be given the chance to do so later this summer. Now if you will excuse me, I really must attend to business. Good day Minister." The headmistress turned and walked into the castle without another word, leaving Scrimgeour looking more than a little put out.

She stalked down the hall, infuriated in more ways than one. She didn't know what had made her say it, but she had said it and now there was no going back. Something seemed to have temporarily possessed her mind. She rather thought it was a dire loathing of Scrimgeour. Something about his tone, as though Hogwarts was some scrap on a giant dung heap that he was just waiting to get rid of.

She knew this was most likely not the case, but it had still gotten to her. She could only hope that she had been correct in her assumptions outside. It would make everything so much easier.

She rounded a corner, on her way to Dumbledore's old office when she saw a slew of ghosts wondering around, discussing the current events.

'_Perfect,'_ she thought to herself as she approached one in particular.

"Uh-hem," she coughed aloud. "Sir Nicholas? A word if you will?"

"Why of course Madame," the staunch ghost replied with a bow. He excused himself from the group of other ghosts and floated over toward Minerva. "What is it you wish of me?"

"I want you to start spreading the word to ghosts and teachers alike that as of now, Hogwarts will remain open."

"That's excellent!" Nearly-headless Nick responded.

"Yes, I thought you would be pleased to hear that. As will the others I'm sure. Now please do as I have asked. If anyone needs me, I will be in Professor Dumbledore's old office."

"Very well Madam," he bowed and took off back to the other ghosts.

McGonagall continued on her way to what she couldn't help but continue to think of as Dumbledore's office. She reached the door, stated "Weasley's Wizard Wheezes," and entered. Dumbledore had always had finesse when it came to choosing passwords. The last one he chose, before his untimely death, had been in dedication to the Weasley twins and all that they had done the year before. It was she had to admit, a fitting tribute. It had irked her to no end to see Umbridge at the funeral as though she belonged there.

The door closed behind her and she walked over to the desk and waited. If she was correct, it would not be long now before her earlier assumption was proven either correct or mistaken. She needn't have doubted. Barely a minute had passed before she heard his clapping as he came down the steps from his chambers.

"Marvelously done, Minerva," he praised with his ever bemused smile plastered on his face.

"Albus, really!" she sighed in annoyance, though it was difficult to keep the relief out of her voice. "You had us all worried. We thought you were dead."

"A necessary pretense, I'm afraid. If it were to get out that young Mr. Malfoy failed in his attempt on my life and Professor Snape had not followed through, then our hand would have been tipped far before it's time."

"Do you mean to say that Professor Snape was in on this?" she asked incredulously.

"Yes," Dumbledore nodded. "It was he who originally came to me with the complete details of what was planned, and he who concocted the potion that I had been taking all year that would prevent me from dying completely. Thanks to him, I was merely comatose while appearing to everyone else as dead."

"And just what is it, may I ask, that you plan to do with yourself then, while the world continues to think that you are dead?" Minerva demanded in a sour tone. She did not like playing games and the insipid grin on Albus' face was just making her lose control of her otherwise even temper even more. Of course, had she not been through such an emotional rollercoaster lately, she probably would have no issue in dealing with this new revolation in a more productive and, for that matter, a much calmer manner.

"Well," replied Albus with a chuckle. "I thought that would be obvious. I plan to be here. Teaching."

Minerva simply stared at him in utter disbelief.


End file.
